Is Fourteen
by awesomesen
Summary: They are fourteen and moving. [X and X2]


* * *

_is fourteen_

* * *

Yuna is fourteen and dancing, struggling to imitate her teacher's steps. The jump, the turn, the movement of the staff--the bell tied to the end clangs irritated, her sleeves tangle, her hair scratches at her face, eyes. The sand is hot and she looses her pace. Someday she'll do it on water, someday she'll bring the Calm, but for now she just squeaks undignified as she looses her footing and crashes to the ground.

* * *

Auron is fourteen and watching, like all the other pupils. Two advanced students, nearly thirty both, are playing at a duel, swords shrieking through the air and always miraculously just missing, or hitting with the blunt edge. His knees are stiff and aching, but he is not allowed to shift his position. The teachers call instruction to the fighters, but they keep close watch on the younger Monk's postures, too. He doesn't mind. He's going to be the best Warrior Monk of all, someday, and that knowledge alone keeps his back straight.

* * *

Rikku is fourteen and happy, having finally won her father's permission. Most Al Bhed stick to the sands, to digging and building and rebuilding again, but that isn't the life for her, no. She can hold her breath for just as long as her brother, can swim deeper then any machina, and her dreams are salty cool like the ocean water. Salvage, that's where her future lies, and maybe it isn't a lofty one, but Rikku always sleeps best on the water.

* * *

Baralai is fourteen and hiding, reading a book in the corner. His mother has been calling him useless again, and fighting only worsens it, so he concentrates on the story in front of him in the temple, willing his upset to go away. The words blur and he blinks rapidly, the hymn of the fayth humming in his ears. His anger finally fades, but it's still two chapters before his sister comes looking for him.

* * *

Wakka is fourteen and thinking, eyes closed against the Besaid sun, back curved into the trunk of the tree, sand warm under him. The rhythmic sound of waves is calming, hypnotic, but he doesn't open his eyes to see the ocean: behind his lids is a Blitzball game, the best one ever, where Chappu and Lulu in the stands cheer for him as he wins them the Cup.

* * *

Lulu is fourteen and washing, water sloshing in the wooden tub. Her hair is pinned up and she is huddled naked on her stool, scrubbing herself before rinsing the soap, and her mind is messy with thoughts of magic and boys and being pretty. Lately people have been clucking at her as she walked by, lately boys have been given her second looks, but Lulu is aware of the newness of her figure only as an annoyance, an embarrassment. By the washtub she blushes a little as she washes, cold and pink and exposed, and she wishes she were ugly so that she could learn her spells in peace.

* * *

Gippal is fourteen and learning, the Al Bhed learning, grease and parts and wires. Always cuts, they say you could tell the age of a mechanic by the number of scars on his hands. Just for a second the wires connect properly, just for a moment his machina jumps to life, fizzing and sparking and trembling like a newborn, and Gippal beams and when it dies he starts working again, eager and proud and wanting to see what Perfect was like to taste.

* * *

Leblanc is fourteen and hungry, walking shifty up the Highroad, the other travelers avoiding her because she screams of thief. Her hair has recently been sheared short, feathery, and dyed blonde out of desperation: She needs to eat, she needs a job, and no one is hiring in Luca. Surely the Al Bhed at the Travel Agency could use extra hands, and Leblanc is willing to start at the bottom. She's hungry now, but she won't always be. Someday, she knows, she'll be great.

* * *

Tidus is fourteen and dreaming, flying and swooping and saving the girl. There are trumpets and fireworks and more fanfares then anyone had ever seen before, and Jecht is there just to congratulate him, since Tidus is better then he ever could be. Auron is there too, grumpy as always, but even he's happy, Tidus knows, because Tidus is the hero, the Blitz champ, the rescuer-of-cute-girls, the greatest. Even when he's not dreaming.

* * *


End file.
